


A Touch at Moonlight

by Zanarkxnd



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Aftercare, Alpha Sett (League of Legends), Also I think he would look amazing in three-piece suits, And some random vastayan chick, Aphelios is a stripper, Aphelios is cocky, Bottom Aphelios (League of Legends), Everyone Is Gay, Explicit Sexual Content, Give my boy some orgasms dammit, He gave up the pit fighting days, Ionia - Freeform, Lunari (League of Legends), M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Not until chapter 2 though, One Night Stands, One Shot, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pillow Talk, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sett is a hitman, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Something about Sett being pent up drove me wild, Top Sett (League of Legends), Varus makes a small appearance, Vastaya, i don't make the rules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:33:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29474022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanarkxnd/pseuds/Zanarkxnd
Summary: “You’re a hitman...” Aphelios' eyes glide across Sett’s face like a cat, “the former Boss.”Sett scoffs—albeit playfully—and asks, “what gave it away?”“Everything, big guy.” Sett has to force himself not to shudder at the nickname, especially when it’s dripping out of Aphelios' lips like honey. A familiar knot coils in the bottom of his stomach as his erection grows.The cool night air suddenly feels too hot for him.
Relationships: Aphelios/Sett (League of Legends)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 86





	1. Your Skin Smells like Light

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to write a Settphelios one shot and I had planned it to be like 1k but here we are.
> 
> Sett and his two lieutenants are hitmen and still frequent his fighting pit/underground business. This is half me sticking to the lore/half me writing in different details for the sake of the story. Obviously Aphelios is not a stripper in the lore, but I’ll still keep some canon facts like Sett being half Vastayan and Aphelios a Lunari etc. Also, do we canonically know the two people in Sett’s splash art or are we just making up names for them cause that's what I did lol.
> 
> The idea of Aphelios being a stripper and wearing black thigh high boots made me cream so here we are.
> 
> Enjoy, and thanks for reading❤️️.

Sett flops down at the sleek black table in his underground office, elbows resting on the dark wood. It’s late, almost 1 in the morning, where the stars skitter across the sky and the only sound to be registered in the office is the constant ticking of the wall clock. His brain knocks against his skull, pain coursing through his eyes before traveling down his spine. He was reckless this time, and had paid the price with a nice kick to the ribs and a punch to the head.

Sett had just finished a mission with Misa, his right-hand woman. Two burglars had thought it’d be funny to take his money.

Sett also thought it’d be funny to take their heads.

When Sett and Misa had finally gotten back to base—blood staining their dark suits—Misa had called dibs on the shower, leaving Sett alone in the office to rest his eyes and think about the lives he had just _poorly_ taken.

He can admit to himself that he had fucked up, sure, but he’d never admit it to Misa. Although he already had an inkling of a feeling that she knew. Being pent up with a job like this wasn’t allowed. Having your mind focused on anything else but the job _wasn’t allowed_. 

He’s happy for the few minutes of silence he gets, albeit the constant ticking of the wall clock. He’s also happy for his other lieutenant Woshin’s absence, knowing damn well that old geezer wouldn’t let him sleep tonight until he wrote his report about how the two lowlife thugs had _mysteriously disappeared_.

The redhead leans back in his chair, and it squeaks when he lifts his arms up behind his head. He closes his eyes for a second, breathing in through his nose before exhaling out of his mouth.

He reeks of blood.

Being a hitman wasn’t an easy job, and it wasn’t until Misa told him about the opportunities and the _money_ it could get him if he became one that he quit the pit fighting business. The underground arena was getting boring, the same brutes throwing their bodies at each other for a couple coins. Sett was _tired_ , and the constant yelling of the crowd had drowned out his ability to care about fights anymore. So naturally, Misa and Woshin had entertained the idea of moving on to something bigger and better.

That’s when Misa found out about the hitman job. Some conglomerate deep within the richest parts of Ionia’s criminal underworld needed the brains _and the brawns_ for the job. Misa was as calculated as she was cold, Woshin had the political skills of a dictator and Sett… well, Sett had enough brawns for all three of them. 

“I’m done.” Misa’s voice disrupts his quietness, dark midnight hair breaking into his vision as she saunters through the door. She’s wearing a black tank top with loosely fitted shorts—the same clothes that Sett had bought for her when they went to the newly built shopping plaza in downtown Ionia. Usually when they travel together onlookers automatically assume they’re a couple, and Sett is grateful knowing that he can protect Misa from just his presence alone.

Sett smiles at her, albeit a little weak, and watches as she makes her way around the room.

Her voice is light and airy, a stark contrast to her fighting style. “We have the night off. Go take a shower and get out of here.”

Sett quirks an eyebrow. “Since when?”

“Woshin isn't here to _make_ you stay.” She winks, voice smooth as she reaches the couch. She plops down and takes out her phone, Sett quietly watching her the whole time. Usually, Sett likes to run his mouth when he finishes a job—something about the excitement of the kill having him riled up—but tonight, they sit in silence, their energy drained from the killing they had just committed.

Misa basks in the quietness, the sounds from downtown Ionia filtering in through the tinted window opposite them in the office. A car drives by, and it’s headlights gleam in through the window, highlighting Sett’s face before disappearing. Misa scrunches up her nose as she remembers the events from earlier.

Killing two guys _would've_ been the easiest thing for them. _Should’ve_ been the easiest thing. 

Sett’s lieutenant types away endlessly at her phone, her trimmed nails creating a rhythmic clicking sound.

“You were tense today.” She starts, “what’s going on with you?”

Sett refuses to meet her gaze, amber eyes hidden behind the darkness of the room. He glanced at the walls as he thought of what to say, the black paint glistening in the moonlight. It seems to mock him. 

“I don’t know.” He lies, his calloused hand coming up to scratch at his neck. His pointy, amber ears twitch when he hears her scoff at him.

“Well I do. You need to loosen up.” Misa’s chocolate eyes glance up from her phone, and she has a look on her face that Sett cannot read.

“Huh?” Sett asks, irritation dripping from his voice. He tries to draw his attention to some other part of the room, something to draw his mind away from the inevitable conversation that Misa is about to have with him. Their office room was as bare as bare could get: a black linoleum floor, four simple black walls, an office desk that could accompany eight, a simple black couch that Misa was occupying and a 70-inch flat screen tv that hadn’t been turned on for as long as Sett could remember. The fighter’s eyes drift to the window, the light shining through again for a split second before fading. 

Misa points to Sett, her eyes flicking to his crotch before immediately looking away, “I can tell when you’re… uh…” She mumbles, “ _stiff_.”

“Misa!” Sett lets out an unintelligible grunt. He throws his hands on the table, mouth open wide as his voice stumbles out. His woolen-suit twists under the weight of his muscles, and suddenly the fabric feels too tight against his skin. 

She huffs. “What?! It’s true.” When Sett stays quiet, she leans up off the couch, legs crossed with judgemental eyes.

“Go out, have fun! Find yourself a nice hot guy or something.” She encourages him.

Sett rolls his eyes, the table creaking under his weight as he puts his elbows on it. “I’m a hitman Misa. _The Former Boss_. People look at me and immediately run.”

Misa hums, index finger tapping against her cheek before her eyes light up. “Go to that new strip club in the east market?”

Sett practically gawks. “ _East market_? As in, the bottom _of the bottom_ of the slums?”

Misa nods. “And you know about that, _how_?” Sett inquiries.

“A friend of a friend works there. Says it’s really upscale for being in the slums.” She stands up, making her away over to Sett. He stays quiet the whole time, eyebrows tightening as he ponders. When she reaches him, she places a hand on his shoulder.

He glances up at her, and her dark eyes are threatening.

“Fine.” He gives in. “What’s it called?”

“Lunar Lady.” She winks, making her way towards the door. “But, you need to shower first. There’s blood on your cheek.” She points to his cheek, and he throws up a middle finger at her before she leaves, the office door creaking as it closes.

Sett stays in his seat for a moment, the clock continuously ticking to let him know that time is constant.

He sighs and gets up, opting to listen to her for once and just take a damn shower.
    
    
      
    
    * * *
    
    
    

Somehow, by the grace of Misa’s persuading skills, Sett finds himself wandering around the slums in search of Lunar Lady later that night. It’s about 3 in the morning now, and the heart of the slums seems to revel in it. There’s drunk patrons walking around, people relaxing outside on the ground and vendors selling street food that Sett _knows_ to steer clear of. There’s crowded houses back to back, built of wood and brick, roofs that seem too small to fit whole families. Sett feels a sting in his gut, similar to when he used to get stabbed back in his pit days. He pities the people who live here, because it reminds him of how poor him and his mother used to be.

“Hey, sexy, I haven’t seen you here before.” A petite woman, a _Vastayan_ , seems to creep out of the dark from besides Sett. He squints, eyeing her up and down before sighing. 

She’s got barely enough clothes on for how crisp the night air is. 

Sett continues to walk on the makeshift road of the slums, rocks and dirt under his polished shoes. The woman doesn’t seem to be bothered by the blatant ignoring, and she continues to keep Sett’s pace.

He stares straight ahead and asks, “do you know where Lunar Lady is?”

The woman hums, linking one of her arms with Sett to push her body closer into his. “I don’t know.. Are you meeting someone there?” The curiosity in her voice has Sett rolling his eyes. 

When he doesn’t answer her, she sighs, “it’s down this path, you see that building around the corner?” She lifts one of her hands up to point at a concrete building, the only building that differentiates itself from the other wooden ones. There's rays of blue and green shining from the top, illuminating the deep blue night sky. Aside from the broken down street lamps that continuously flicker, Lunar Lady seems to be the only thing giving the slums some sort of life. 

Sett only nods at this, opting to not give this random stranger looking for a hook-up any more conversation. If only he was into women.

“You know,” she starts, her tiny hand coming up to probe at one of Sett’s ears, “your ears are kind of small for a Vastayan.” 

This immediately sets him off, and he swats her hand away before she can touch him. “I’m not interested, lady.” He spits out, the venom in his voice practically piercing the air. The woman gasps and draws back her hand, disgust filling out all her facial features that Sett couldn’t care less about.

“Whatever, jerk.” She snarled, her blonde ears flattening as she turned away. Sett’s grateful when she disappears back into the night, and he continues walking down the dirt path towards Lunar Lady, the bass from the club growing in his ears as he approaches.

The closer he gets the more his senses pick up, and he can smell the accumulated sweat and heat that’s inside the club. His steps slowly start to get louder, and he realizes the gravel dirt road he’s been walking on has slowly changed to oddly placed stones. The man-made walkway leads him up to the club, and there’s several people standing around the entrance, drinking and talking a little too loosely. 

A few of them look up at Sett as he walks by, his attire causing him to stick out like a sore thumb. But, still, none of them make any attempt to approach him. 

Sett pushes at the two large steel doors at the entrance, and is blown away by everything he sees. His Vastayan senses seem to fire off all at once. 

Inside Lunar Lady was like dancing on the Northern Lights; beneath the dry-ice smoke swirled an array of blues, acid greens, hot pinks and gold. The music that drummed over the speakers seemed to be infused with the various bodies scattered about. They all seem to move in unison, with every space available being used as a dance floor. Sett feels out of place in his all black, fitted three piece suit. He had opted out of blending in—immediately knowing that it wasn’t going to be an option. Someone of his status, his _stature_ , would be sniffed out instantly. 

Sett spots the bar in the corner of the club, the sharp smell of drinks wafting towards him. He starts to make his way there, weaving through people dancing and chatting, cigarette smoke blending in with the strobe lights. The dark marble of the countertop that separates the bar looks expensive, almost as if Sett has seen that same countertop in his office. There’s multiple colored bottles aligning the shelves behind the bar, some names Sett recognizes and some he does not. The club seems to pound around him like a heartbeat, individual parts moving together as a whole, a functioning body of rhythmic motion.

Sett leans over the expensive looking countertop, elbows resting on the glossy marble. A guy with bright silver hair—it doesn’t look natural—comes up to Sett from behind the counter.

“What’re you havin’?” He yells out, trying to make his voice louder than the music. A small white towel is thrown over his shoulder.

The first thing Sett notices is how _white_ his eyes are, how they seem to outshine the lights flickering around the club. _He’s kind of attractive_ , Sett thinks, and he throws the bartender his signature cocky smile, canines flashing in the process.

“Whisky. Bourbon.” Sett answers, raising his voice to match the bartender. Sett doesn’t know if it's his imagination or the pink lights of the club, but he swears he can see a small blush painted across the bartenders cheeks.

“Good choice!” The man shouts and turns his back to grab a bottle off the illuminated shelf behind the bar. Sett runs a hand through his hair as he waits, and within no time the bartender brings him his small glass of whiskey. Sett pulls out some cash, more than enough for his simple drink, and hands it over to the bartender. When the mysterious man takes it from him, he does so in a way where he’s able to hold onto Sett’s hand. His fingers linger across Sett’s palm, and after what feels like minutes pass, he pulls away. Sett scoffs, his amber eyes glistening hazel as he watches the bartender start to walk away to help other customers.

The hitman lifts his drink up as thanks, and when he takes a sip he finally starts to relax. The alcohol burns his tongue, coats his throat and settles in his stomach nicely. Sett starts to feel like he belongs, just a little bit, and opts to lean his back against the counter to watch the rest of Lunar Lady. He eyes everyone in the club, looking for anyone that can satiate him for just one night. It’s all he needs really, one good night to get his mind off of all the things that make him human—so he can go back to work and do the things that _don’t_.

Sett thinks maybe he can go for the bartender, the little exchange earlier boosting his confidence and assuring him that the bartender is _definitely_ into men. When he eyes the man at the other edge of the bar, he debates on what to say to get his attention again, but his thoughts are halted when the music in the club suddenly stops.

The lights in the club seem to dim, and instantly two bright blue and pink strobe lights illuminate a stage at the other end of the club from the bar.

This seems to catch everyone’s attention and they all turn towards the stage, eyes anticipating and hushed whispers. Slowly, smoke starts to fill the stage and the bass picks up. A figure emerges from the smoke, dressed in all black and _mysterious_. A pole glistens in the center of the stage, its surface reflecting the strobe lights. Sett guesses it’s just another dancer, and he’s about to turn away until the figure stands right under the strobe lights.

Sett’s breath gets stuck in his throat at what he sees. 

He watches as black hair curls, the bass of the song resonating in his ears. The dancer is on stage, twisting and twirling, milky white skin glistening against the stage lights. The hitman is shocked when he realizes the dancer is a guy, and it only draws in his attention even more. Sett studies him, notices the curvature of his hips, notices how soft his thighs look peeking out of his black tights, notices his nipples through the sheer black crop top he’s wearing. Within the blink of an eye, the dancer grabs onto the pole and is up in the air, his arms supporting his weight as his legs hang above him. His hair falls down, short raven locks falling away from his face. There’s two dark marks on his face, one curving over his bottom lip and ending at his chin. The other curves over his right eye, similar to a crescent moon. 

_A Lunari huh_ , Sett thinks, mesmerized by what's being played out in front of him. Sett notices the bartender approach him from his peripheral vision, and before the bartender opens his mouth Sett speaks.

"What's his name?" Sett asks, but it sounds more like a _demand_. The bartender follows Sett’s eyes towards the stage and chuckles. 

"Mooncake. He brings in money like nobody's business.” 

"I meant his _real_ name." Sett exhales through his nose, his voice barely audible over the thrumming music in his ears. The bartender quirks a brow but answers nonetheless. 

"His name is Aphelios. Good kid, great employee." He affirms, and he's about to offer Sett another glass of whiskey before a couple of rowdy, overly-drunken businessmen in fancy Ionian suits saunter over to the other side of the bar. Sett barely notices the bartender walking away: his eyes never once leaving Aphelios. 

He washes down the last of his whiskey, voice deep and sandy as he grunts out, " _Aphelios_.”

The club pounds around Sett, people screaming and hollering as Aphelios continues to swivel around the pole on stage. Some old, greedy man starts to feel confident, and he gets up from his table a few feet away from the stage to walk closer to Aphelios. Sett narrows his eyes as he watches the exchange. The old man reaches up to grab at Aphelios’ thighs, and within a second Aphelios pushes the tip of his black heel into the old man’s chest: not enough to knock him backwards, but enough to get the point across.

The old man scurries away with a red face full of embarrassment. 

Sett thinks he's losing his mind when Aphelios looks over at him. His dark black eyes almost paralyze the hitman, and Sett can only stare, whiskey glass clenched tight in his hand. Sett knows it’s not realistically possible, but he feels as if lightning is coursing through his veins as Aphelios locks eyes with him. 

The dancer continues to smirk on stage, hips swaying to the music as the club continues to holler around them. Aphelios moves like water transformed by music—flowing in graceful arcs—limbs in constant motion, painting a picture sound alone can never achieve. 

Sett’s throat feels too dry, and he can hardly make out the smirk on Aphelios’ lips as the dancer twirls around the pole before dropping into a split. His small, black thong barely covers up his crotch as his dick lays flat on the dance floor, covered only by the thin piece of black fabric. 

Sett coughs.

The song starts to die down, and Aphelios stops, the crowd erupting into a collected mass of clapping and cheering. Sett can see money being thrown at him, and Aphelios seems to pick it up as gracefully as he had danced earlier. The hitman hasn’t noticed when a guy who’s been next to him this whole time finally speaks up, a drink in his own hand.

“You’ve taken a liking to him?” The stranger asks, pointing to the stage as he glances at Sett.

Aphelios disappears behind the stage, and it’s only then when Sett brings his attention to the stranger next to him. 

“I have.” Sett grunts, his eyes sharpening as he turns back around to lean against the bar. The man is giving him a sly look, one that Sett doesn’t want to acknowledge.

“Get in line, buddy.” The sleazeball says, the beer in his hand coming up to his lips before he takes a sloppy sip. Sett’s ears immediately draw back, and he squints his eyes even further. 

“ _What?_ ” Sett snarled, the blood in his face boiling. 

“Everyone w-wants a piece of that t-trophy.” The guy, obviously drunk, stammers as he talks, completely oblivious to how angry Sett is. 

“He’s not an _object_.” Sett’s hair is standing on edge now, his ears fully laid back. The club seems to notice the commotion, and multiple eyes find their way to Sett. Fury blazes within him like a house fire, and that same fury flashes across his eyes as they turn from honey amber to bright hazel. 

It isn’t until now that the stranger realizes he’s in danger. 

He fumbles, “I d-didn’t—”

Sett slams his whiskey glass down onto the countertop, causing the man to fall silent. The dark marble echoes under the weight of his fist. The marble cracks, a small part of his whiskey glass chips off on the side. An aura, similar to a wolf, emanates from Sett, his eyes dark and animalistic. Sett doesn’t even notice all the eyes on him, how half of the bar has stopped what they’re doing to watch the exchange. Sett glares at the stranger, eyes glowing yellow with rage. He can feel the hair around his ears sticking on end, and he huffs out a breath that sounds similar to a growl. The stranger—now cowering in fear—immediately books it before finding out what would happen to him if he _had_ stayed.

“Sir?..” The bartender, as timid as he can be, reaches out to touch Sett’s hand, which is still gripping the whiskey glass. Sett turns to look at him, and when he notices the terrified look on the bartenders face, he snaps out of it. He glances back and forth from the bartender to the rest of the club, and it isn’t until now that he realizes _no music_ has been playing since Aphelios’ earlier performance. Sett’s face flushes with embarrassment, and he stutters as tries to find the right words to say.

“Uh, sorry.. about the, uh-” Sett stumbles, and the bartender seems to smile with relief.

“It’s okay.” He says, his eyes still glowing under the light of the club. Sett runs a hand through his hair, the last traces of anger leaving him.

“You got an alley, a smoke-exit.. or something?” Sett pleaded, eyes growing soft as he realizes how upset he had gotten. The bartender seems to chuckle, and stops polishing a wine glass he’s holding to point towards a small door on the other side of the club.

Sett pulls out some more money and plops it on the counter. The bartender eyes it with a raised brow.

“For the.. uh… damage.” Sett’s cheeks are pink with shame, and the bartender just shakes his head with a laugh. The hitman takes this as an invitation to leave, and he books it for the door that the bartender had pointed to.

What Sett doesn’t know, however, is that Aphelios was watching the exchange as well, curious dark eyes following the man as he races to the door.

Aphelios smiles, picks up his coat, and decides to make his way outside as well. 


	2. You Must Be the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sett feels the Vastayan within him grow, his fingers tingling with need. He lets go of Aphelios’ bare ass, and brings one hand up to the dancer’s chin. He grips it with his index finger and his thumb, forcing the dancer to stare into his slowly glowing hazel eyes.
> 
> A sly chuckle escaped his lips. “ _Mooncake_.. was it?” Sett has the upper hand now, and he knows it, so he uses his deep voice, a mix of growls and grit in his chest, to turn Aphelios into putty in his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The snow has been piling up here in Texas, so this is dropping a lot faster than I anticipated. If anyone lives in Texas that's reading this, please stay safe and warm! Leave your faucets running on low at night so your pipes don't burst. 
> 
> The amount of hits I got on this kind of blew me away, which also motivated me to write the rest haha. Thank you guys for the support, now enjoy the sexy explicit smut chapter ;).

_Dammit, you dumbass, since when did you let yourself get fired up over a nobody_? Sett scolds himself, finding relief when the cold air hits his face as he makes his way outside.

The alley of Lunar Lady looks exactly like he imagined it, straight like a straw and almost as narrow; the voices of drunkards on the street ricochet between the concrete and brick wall on either side of the alley. There’s trash littering the ground, empty pizza boxes and plastic wrappers around his feet.

 _Typical of East Market_ , he thinks. 

It takes him a moment to shake off his embarrassment, the tips of his ears and nose red as the wind nips at his skin. 

Suddenly, Sett hears a choked gasp next to him, and he jerks his head up to find none other than Aphelios, who massages his neck with a pained look on his face. He seems to be in his own world, disregarding the fact that Sett is standing a few feet away from him. He’s got a water bottle in one of his hands, a huge, black woolen-coat hanging across his forearm. It looks like he’s having an inner battle with himself, his button nose scrunching up before his mouth downturns like he’s eaten something sour. Sett hears him whisper something about poison, and someone named Alune. 

Sett can’t help but stare at the dancer, who chugs the bottle of water before sighing. He rubs at his throat and cracks his neck as he rolls back his shoulders.

“Ah, much better...” The dancer whispers to himself, seemingly oblivious to Sett standing in the alley as well. Sett stays quiet, eyes glued to Aphelios’ face. He feels heat in his cheeks, or maybe his crotch, he’s not so sure anymore.

Aphelios stares ahead, his dark eyes studying the brick wall on the other side of the alley. He smiles before opening his mouth, lips curled at the ends. 

“You caused quite the stir back there.” Aphelios taunts, his voice smoother than Sett had even imagined. He lets every word drip from his mouth, each syllable pronounced so softly and slowly. Aphelios tilts his head to the side, his bangs covering his left eye as he stares. His arms are folded over his chest, and the look on his face lets Sett know that Aphelios was _definitely_ aware of his presence. Sett stutters as he opens his mouth, the words forming on his tongue and falling away like quick sand before he can say them. 

Aphelios chuckles, “what, cat got your tongue?” His voice stirs up something in Sett, and when Aphelios darts out his tongue to lick at his bottom lip, Sett makes up his mind.

He _wants_ this man.

He finds his confidence again, reminding himself that he’s _Sett_ , the Former Boss, a _hitman_. The redhead drops his voice, the grittiness it holds comes out in full effect. “Just some prick.” Sett says. 

Aphelios quirks a brow. “ _Just_ some prick? You nearly shattered the bar.” He pauses to take another sip of his water and continues, “I know we’re in the slums but that counter ain’t cheap.”

Sett snorts. He knew he recognized it from somewhere.

“I’m known to cause a scene I guess.” Sett leans against the wall, the cold feeling of stone rough against his suit jacket. Sett can feel the bass of the club’s music pounding through the brick.

The hitman pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, fishing one out before bringing his fingers up to his lips. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, having Aphelios this close to him has him on edge, despite his brief moment of confidence seconds ago. In one swift motion he pulls out a lighter that Misa had given him, lights the end of his stick, and puffs out a ball of smoke after a long inhale. 

He doesn’t smoke often—doesn’t even have cigarettes often—just uses it as something to take the edge off. Before Sett is even fully aware of it, Aphelios is standing next to him, way closer than before. The dancer hums at Sett’s earlier response, and something about his porcelain skin glowing under the moonlight makes Sett want to touch him.

Aphelios smiles, something cocky on the end of his lips, and suddenly his hand is in Sett’s suit pocket, fishing around for his cigarette pack. Sett is hyper-aware of his hand on him, how his fingers are achingly close to his crotch. No.. his erection. The hitman holds his breath, watches as Aphelios pulls out a single cigarette. The dancer places the stick in his mouth, and suddenly he’s reaching up on his tippy toes to bring the end of his cigarette up to Sett’s already lit one.

Sett finds himself holding his breath for the second time that night. 

Aphelios successfully lights his cigarette that way, and leans next to Sett on the brick wall. They spend a couple of minutes in silence smoking, the dark alley with a couple busted trash cans being their only audience. The music from the club pounds in the background, and multiple different voices filter in and out of Sett’s ears. Sett steals glances at Aphelios when he can, wondering how the dancer isn’t cold with the little amount of clothes he has on. 

After a while, Aphelios flicks the ashes off his cigarette.

“I’m really tired...” Aphelios sighs, leaning his head back on the brick wall. His bangs fall out of his face, and now Sett can see up close how soft his skin looks, how it practically emanates light. Sett isn’t dense, he _knows_ this is an invitation, _knows_ by the way Aphelios’ eyes flicker that he wants something more. And if there’s one thing that Sett has learned from fighting in the pit, it’s that you need to grab any opportunity you get by the horns. 

“Then let me take you home. It’s the least I can do for holding you up like this.” Sett likes to believe that he’s smooth—despite the minimal relationships he’s been in—and his thoughts are confirmed when he catches a slight flush across Aphelios’ freckled cheeks, soft pink melting into milky white. 

Bingo. 

“Ah..” Aphelios sighs, and he looks up at Sett with another sinful smirk on his face, “a big strong man like you wants to walk me home? I’m flattered.” At this, Sett studies the marks across Aphelios’ face, a muted purple that shines under the moonlight. A Lunari, glowing, right before his eyes.

Sett lets the attraction in his voice drip out, his eyes hazing over with seduction. “You should be.”

Aphelios’ mouth falls open, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. He looks at Sett’s suit, how the tidy three-piece has slowly come undone, how his tie is loose, his how vest buttons are unfastened. He takes his time studying Sett, and when the hitman doesn’t budge under the dancer’s gaze, Aphelios finally speaks up.

“You’re Sett...” The dancer’s eyes glide across Sett’s face like a cat, “ _the former Boss_.”

Sett scoffs—albeit playfully—and asks, “what gave it away?”

“ _Everything_ , big guy.” Sett has to force himself not to shudder at the nickname, especially when it’s dripping out of Aphelios’ lips like honey. A familiar knot coils in the bottom of his stomach as his erection grows.

The cool night air suddenly feels too hot for him.

Aphelios unfolds his jacket, thick black wool tickling the thin strands of hair on his arm. Sett watches as he puts it on, the fabric drowning out Aphelios’ porcelain skin. The jacket ends around his thighs, his full body now covered in black. His midnight hair almost taunts Sett, and the fighter stands there, admiring him. Aphelios flicks his cigarette on the ground and stomps on it, his heel crushing it in half.

“Well, _come on_. Take me home.” Aphelios stuffs one hand in his coat pocket, and offers up his other arm for Sett to take. Sett smiles and throws his cigarette down as well, stomping on it before complying.

He links their arms, the warmth of Aphelios’ skin settling on his through the thick layers of fabric. They make their way out of the alley, coming into view of the dim lamp posts. The streets are still as crowded as they were when Sett first arrived, and Aphelios has to lead the way to weave them in and out of the crowd.

The Ionian slums still smell the same way that Sett remembers from the last time he was down here with Misa. It’s musty, but also carries a certain enticing smell that makes you _want_ to explore. Sett hardly pays attention to the drunkards lining the sides of the streets, his eyes locked onto Aphelios. He watches how the dancer shifts about, deep eyes hazing over every person in his sight. They walk down a makeshift wooden path, the floorboards creaking against the weight of Aphelios’ heels. Sett notices how Aphelios barely reaches his height with his thigh-high boots on, and he shutters to think about how small he is without them.

The artificial glow of the street lamps illuminate Aphelios’ face, but Sett thinks he looks better in the moonlight, where the soft pale rays caress his skin like a mist, in the charcoal of almost dawn.

Sett’s voice pierces the air as they turn around a corner. “So, how’d you get to be a dancer?” He decides that he wants to make some kind of conversation, wants Aphelios to know that he’s _interested_ in him, not just interested in what they’re _about_ to do when they get back to his place.

“We’re sharing life stories _already_?” Aphelios taunts, squeezing at Sett’s bicep playfully. This has Sett cognizant of how much of a size difference is between them, how small Aphelios’ hand feels around his arm. The hitman stays quiet, eyes sharp when he spots the slight smirk on Aphelios’ pink lips.

He hasn’t noticed it until now, but Aphelios has the slightest bit of makeup on. Tinted lips, sharp black eyeliner, long lashes that tickle Aphelios’ cheeks when he blinks.

Aphelios’ voice sounds a little less playful when he finally answers. “I think it’s pretty obvious.. I do what I need to survive.”

“Looks like you’re doing more than surviving..” Sett eyes the bulge in Aphelios’ coat pocket, the same one Aphelios has kept one of his hands on since they left Lunar Lady. He can only imagine how much money he’s holding.

Sett speaks up again, “Lots of fans, huh?”

Aphelios stares straight ahead, his vision locked onto a man in the distance. Sett naturally follows his gaze, and when the man gets closer to them, Aphelios leans into Sett further. The hitman watches as the stranger walks past—his attention on something else entirely—and Aphelios grabs a hold of Sett’s arm tighter. “Lots of pickpockets, too.”

There’s something about seeing Aphelios suddenly on edge—the exact opposite of how he was in the alley, seductive and calculated—that’s got frustration gnawing at Sett’s fingertips.

Aphelios’ voice is somber as it floats through the air. “Got held up at gunpoint once. Lost a week's worth of money.” He sighs, “not fun.” 

“I’m sorry.” Sett apologized. It’s been so long since he’s been in this life that he’s almost forgotten how awful it is. Aphelios just squeezes his arm, his way of saying _it’s okay_. 

Sett simmers, knowing damn well that if he ever _even saw_ the dude who did that to Aphelios that he would kill him, splatter his head across the floor and watch as the blood drains from his face.

When they finally get to their destination, Aphelios leads them towards a set of houses, with makeshift mailboxes lining the entrance. The slums open up here, with the sky being the most visible in this area. The moon seems to sit right in the center, bright and round as it reflects light upon Aphelios’ face. Sett takes in the sight, almost shocked that such a quiet, somber place sits in the middle of the slums. 

They round the corner and end up in front of a house that seems to sit perfectly in the moonlight, short grass with a couple of moon lilies are scattered about. The house is small, made of pale wooden beams and planks, whitewood that seems to fit perfectly together. A small trail of cobblestone leads up to the house, peppered by the moon lilies around the grass.

Sett can’t help but think of how cute it looks. Aphelios leads Sett up the cobblestone walkway, and when they reach the door he pulls out his key to unlock it.

“Well, this is it.” Aphelios revealed, opening the door to his home. As soon as the door opens, Sett is hit with a potent smell of moondust, so much so that it increases his heartbeat. He’s only heard about this stuff in legends, of powerful Lunaris who smell like that of the moon, a scent that’s so intoxicating no one’s been known to resist it.

Sett stands there in silence, the Vastayan within him creeping along the edge of his nerves. He can feel a growl building up in his throat, but he swallows it down and remembers his manners.

“Can I come inside?” Sett asks, although he already knows the answer.

Aphelios smirks, stepping aside and motioning inside his house. “I do owe you for walking me home.”

Sett huffs through the smirk plastered onto his face. “Round and round it goes...” As soon as he takes one step inside, the smell of the moondust becomes stronger, and it takes everything within Sett to not go animalistic, to not ravish Aphelios on the spot right next to the front door. 

Aphelios closes and locks the door from behind Sett. Sett can hear the dancer’s smooth voice behind him as he whispers out, “make yourself at home.” 

Sett glances around the room, noticing how small the house is. A single bed sits in the corner, the blankets and pillows a soft lilac. There’s a small kitchen that looks like those kitchens found in cabins on the other side of the room, and a door that leads to what Sett assumes is a bathroom next to it. The house is adorned with light gray and white, peppered with hints of lilac around the room. 

The hitman’s breath sits in his throat uncomfortably. He finally turns around to face Aphelios. “It's.. quaint.” He muses.

Another smirk makes it way onto Aphelios’ face. “What can I say? I’m quite _old fashioned_.” The dancer shrugs his shoulders, slowly taking off his coat. Sett’s mouth hangs slightly open, watching as the black fabric seems to drip off Aphelios, his chest coming into view from his sheer black top. The moondust flutters through Sett’s nostrils, and he’s sentient of the proximity of Aphelios’ body to his. He watches as the dancer sheds his coat and it falls to the floor. 

“Your performance was…” Sett starts, inhaling the scent of the moondust until it consumes him. 

Aphelios stalks forward, his eyes deep and lustful. He brings his arms up to warm them around Sett’s neck, their bodies now being pressed up against each other. Aphelios tilts his head up and lets his voice drip out. “Yeah?”

Sett, who’s had composure this whole time, loses it when he feels Aphelios’ dick pressed up on him through layers of fabric. In one swift motion, he picks Aphelios up by the ass, the dancer immediately wrapping his legs around Sett’s waist. The hitman presses him up against the wall, and instantly their lips collide. Sett presses his growing erection harder into Aphelios’ body, causing the dancer to moan.

Sett takes advantage of this by slinking his tongue into Aphelios’ mouth. The Lunari seems to drown against him, trying his best to keep up. Moans fall out of his lips with each breath, and Sett can’t get enough of them. Sett’s dick grows hard inside his pants, and even Aphelios can feel how large the hitman is under his clothes. 

Sett pulls away, hazy eyes full of lust taking in every bit of Aphelios. The dancer is gazing with teary eyes, lips red and swollen from the onslaught of kisses. His breathing is rough, and his hands are gripping Sett’s neck loosely now. If Sett were to step back from the wall, he’s sure Aphelios would fall to the floor in a mess of tangled limbs.

Sett feels the Vastayan within him grow, his fingers tingling with need. He lets go of Aphelios’ bare ass, and brings one hand up to the dancer’s chin. He grips it with his index finger and his thumb, forcing the dancer to stare into his slowly glowing hazel eyes.

A sly chuckle escaped his lips. “ _Mooncake_.. was it?” Sett has the upper hand now, and he knows it, so he uses his deep voice, a mix of growls and grit in his chest, to turn Aphelios into putty in his hands. 

A groan escapes the hitman’s lips. “You’re getting so turned on from just a kiss. How long has it been for you, _hm_?” Sett can’t front, it’s been long for him too, and he’s sure Aphelios can feel that longing pressing up against his own. 

The dancer’s mouth opens and closes, syllables trying to form on his lips. Before he can actually speak, however, Sett takes his other hand that isn’t holding Aphelios’ chin to the dancers crotch. He grabs a hold of the small black thong, and with one swift yank, it rips off of Aphelios’ dick.

The dancer yelps, eyes going wide as his dick hits the cold air. Sett flashes his canines, his ears sticking up on end at the sight. It’s just how he pictured. 

He presses himself into Aphelios even more, causing the dancer to moan at the friction of Sett’s clothed erection against his bare one.

Sett inhales until his lungs are full, and he exhales slowly as he brings his lips right up to Aphelios’ neck. “Your moondust.. smells better than the rumors..” He sticks out his tongue, licking across the pale skin that’s been taunting him this whole night. He opens his mouth slightly, letting his canines graze across Aphelios’ skin. The dancer shivers under the touch, and it has another growl building up inside Sett’s chest.

He brings his mouth up to Aphelios’ earlobe and whispers. “It’s gonna make me lose my mind, _mooncake_ , is that what you want? For me to _lose it_?” At this, the Lunari whimpers, his cheeks glowing impossibly red. Sett trails kisses from his earlobe to the highbones of his cheeks, where he catches slight tears.

Another inhale of the moondust has another growl escaping his throat, and he brings his hands back down to Aphelios’ bare ass to pick him up. As much as he loves the teasing, there’s only so much of it he can do, his own dick growing heated in his pants, precum forming at the tip.

Sett walks them over to the bed, with Aphelios wrapped around him, molding his body around the hitman as if his life depends on it. 

The redhead lays Aphelios down, watching as the dancer shreds his sheer black top. He’s now fully naked, aside from his thigh high tights and black heels. Sett smirks at the sight as he undressed himself as well, layers upon layers of his obnoxious suit being thrown off until he’s in nothing but a pair of black boxers.

The hitman licks his lips as he stares at Aphelios’ heels.

“And these..” Sett grabs at Aphelios’ ankle, the velvet of the boots feels soft in his hand. The dancer complies and quickly removes his heels, the zipper sliding all the way down until the boots fall off. The view of Aphelios’ naked body sends him in to overdrive, the smell of moondust mixed with the light bouncing off of the Lunari’s skin.

Sett grabs Aphelios by the wrist and pins him down on his bed for a greedy kiss, the dancer slightly pushes against him, a blush plastered across his face. 

The two males embrace each other, bodies so hot, sticky and humid that it could battle the freezing weather outside.

Sett briefly breaks the kiss to hold two fingers in front of Aphelios, who takes them into his mouth almost _too quickly_ , and sucks to coat them generously with saliva.

Sett thought it was a pretty arousing sight, Aphelios sitting there with big eyes, sucking on Sett’s fingers. His dick responds as well, heated and _red_ and pressing against his boxers.

“Good mooncake.” Sett praised. He brought their lips back together sloppily, his saliva mixing with Aphelios’. His kisses were so fierce and demanding that it had the dancer gasping for air, his breathing deep and irregular. It was then that Sett decided to slip his soaked digits down Aphelios’ chest, his own saliva being trailed across his skin. He trails his fingers down until he gets to his ass, briefly trailing them against Aphelios’ hole, sending a shiver down his spine, before Sett slowly pushes them inside.

Surprisingly, Aphelios’ hole greeted them generously.

Sett chuckles. “Wow...” Aphelios spared him a small laugh as he noticed the grin suddenly take place on the other’s face. With an almost experienced push, Sett is able to get all of his two fingers inside, down to the knuckle.

Aphelios groans out, tugging on his lower lip with his teeth, “stop teasing me and just do something about it.” He feels a mixture of small aching pain and a bud of pleasure, with the latter being more prominent. Sett pumps his fingers in and out, peppering kisses along Aphelios’ neck. The dancer mewls and moans, his toes curling at the onslaught.

Sett watches as Aphelios starts to get more and more undone, his baby hairs sticking to his forehead and his cheeks growing even more red. He wastes no time to dive in for another kiss, leaving Aphelios breathless as he tries to keep up. Aphelios kisses back, wrapping his arms around Sett’s neck to press their chests together, both of the males growing more and more heated as their kissing goes on.

When Aphelios suddenly yelps, nails digging into Sett’s nape and his face curling into Sett’s collarbone, the hitman smiles. “Oh? What was that mooncake?” Sett bends his head slightly to whisper into the dancer's ear, breath hot and seductive: making Aphelios fall apart.

He moves his fingers in that same motion, curling upwards and to the left—it seems to be Aphelios’ sweet spot—and watches as Aphelios’ moans grow louder. He whimpers through the pleasure as Sett abuses his prostate, toes curling and back arching. He buries his nose in Sett's neck, smelling him and breathing him and taking him all in. Sett feels Aphelios practically molding around him, legs coming up to wrap around his hips as he pumps his fingers even more. The dancer’s exposed erection rubs against Sett’s that’s hidden behind the fabric of his boxers, and he lets his own moan escape.

Sett pulls away to stare at Aphelios’ face, he’s got tears in his eyes now, and his cheeks are still very red. “Please, _please..”_ Aphelios mewls, his fingers digging into the skin on the back of Sett’s neck. Aphelios can feel his orgasm reaching out to him already, the tip of his dick twitching as more precum forms.

Sett watches, sharp Vastayan eyes that devour the sight in front of him. He pumps his fingers a couple more times, watching as Aphelios throws his hand back with his mouth hanging open.

Sett stops. 

Aphelios’ eyes are wide, bangs laid haphazardly across his face. His orgasm was _so_ close, and now the pressure is his chest feels too intense.

“Sett I _can’t_..” He sobs, his nails scraping against Sett’s skin. 

Sett chuckles through raspy breaths. “You _can_.” He leaves his fingers inside for a couple minutes, watching as Aphelios squirms, his orgasm being denied for a little longer.

The dancer’s breathing is irregular, and the sight makes Sett want to cum on the spot. He starts to move his fingers again, poking and prodding and Aphelios feels more tears form in his eyes.

“No more…” Aphelios chokes out between a groan, his cock angry and red. He can feel his gut tightening, the edge of an orgasm reaching out to him yet again. Sett can feel his fingers being squeezed roughly, and with one swift moment he removes them. Sett swears he hears Aphelios cry, tears rolling down his cheeks and onto the corners of his lips. 

"Already mooncake?" Sett murmured, ducking down to suck and nibble at one of Aphelios’ nipples, making the ravenette arch into him, a moan forcing his already soaked lips apart as he felt pleasure rolling through him. When Aphelios whines at the loss of Sett’s fingers—his hips bucking upwards to create some kind of friction with _anything_ —Sett hushes him with a swift kiss, tongue sliding in and over Aphelios’, both hands gripping onto the underside of Aphelios’ thighs to force his legs up and apart. Sett pushes his boxers down, the fabric folding at his knees. His cock jumps and twitches as it touches fresh air for the first time that night, the head soft and pink and begging for attention.

He angles his hips and lines up the tip to Aphelios’ hole, grinning as he watches Aphelios—who is also watching his cock—hold his breath in anticipation.

So, Sett gives him what he wants.

He pushes inside in one thrust, the dancer falling apart as he does. He holds onto Sett, head laid back on his pillow as he revels in the feeling of the hitman’s dick deep inside him.

“Does it hurt?” Sett whispers, stealing another kiss from Aphelios and cradling his face. He wishes he could frame this moment, really, Aphelios sprawled out with red cheeks and teary eyes and a slightly drooling mouth. Aphelios responds with a shake of his head after kissing back, and that’s all it takes for Sett to create a rhythm. He leans up and holds Aphelios’ waist with both hands, pushing forward with more force than before.

Aphelios’ pupils have blown, deep brown rims outlining shiny black. With every thrust, Aphelios loses his mind a little bit more. Piece by piece he starts to unveil like a flower, showing more and more of himself to Sett.

“Sett… I-” Aphelios isn’t able to finish his sentence, moan after moan rippling out of him with every one of Sett’s thrusts. Aphelios leans up to press their chests together, nipples touching and hands so soft and gentle.

In a split second, Sett pushes the dancer back down onto the bed, hand quickly coming up to cover the dancer’s mouth, “Did anyone else fuck you in this bed? _Hm_?” Sett practically growls, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Aphelios whines at the question, lips quivering as he’s overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure he’s feeling.

Sett holsters Aphelios up by the hips, his ass completely off the bed now, black hair gets dragged and pulled, hands grab at bedsheets and dirty sounds fill the air. 

An orchestra of flesh and bone.

The Lunari grabs onto Sett’s arms with both hands, eyes growing even larger and pupils even smaller. “Sett.. I..” Aphelios moans between words, “Sett I’m gonna..”

Sett stops, hands leaving their imprinted place on Aphelios’ hips. He pulls back until he’s fully out of Aphelios’ hole, dick swollen and angry. Aphelios’ ass drops back down onto the bed and he squirms, hands reaching up to dig into Sett’s biceps. 

“P-please.. I-“ He feels empty as he squeaks out, reaching up to grab onto any part of Sett, to _feel_ any part of him. 

“You what?” Sett teases, feigning a yawn as he pulls away from Aphelios’ grasp. He can feel the edge of his own orgasm creeping up on him, dick slightly twitching from being exposed to the warm air. 

“I need you.” Aphelios bites his lip, his hand reaching down to grab at Sett’s erection.

Sett lets him, biting back his own moan as Aphelios starts to move his hand, fingers tightening at the tip before moving down to the base. Sett somehow keeps himself from going over the edge.

There’s something completely captivating about Aphelios, sweaty and pleading and undone that riles him up. Sett smirks as he grabs the hand on his dick, bringing it up to his mouth to lick his own precum off. Aphelios whimpers at the sight, his dick throbbing as precum dribbles onto his own stomach. 

“I-I _want_ you.” Aphelios purrs with teary eyes and a drooling mouth.

That’s all it takes for Sett to lose his mind, quickly flicking his wrist at the other male to get him to turn over. Aphelios wastes no time, getting up to turn over on his hands and knees. His ass rises high into the air, balls dangling and dick hanging, straight and hard.

Sett growls out the dancer’s name, and before Aphelios can respond, he feels an intense amount of pleasure as Sett shoves into him in one go, dick hitting his prostate as if Sett had memorized it’s exact spot. It sends a shiver and a gasp out of Aphelios, who falls onto his chest, his hands grabbing at the bedsheets once more. His face gets stuffed into the pillow when Sett leans down, chest flush against Aphelios’ back, motioning his body weight forward as he pounds into the dancer.

“F-fuck… Aphelios…” He feels his orgasm approaching, balls tightening and temples dripping with sweat. Aphelios can’t even respond to the call of his name, moans overtaking him as he pushes back against Sett, balls slapping onto his ass in an almost filthy way. He drools on the pillow, eye’s so small you’d think they rolled into the back of his head. Sett rams in one last thrust, and it causes Aphelios to spill over the edge, dick spent and spurting cum onto the sheets and his own stomach. They stay like that for a moment, Sett catching his breath and savoring the feeling of his dick inside of Aphelios. When he makes a motion to move, Aphelios whimpers, hands reaching out behind him to grab hold of Sett’s wrists.

“Aphelios..” Sett whispers, arms coming around to grab at the dancer’s chest. Sweat rolls down his temples and his eyes are glowing hazel, moondust completely smothering his sense of smell. Sett holsters Aphelios up, the smaller male sitting on his lap with his back flush against Sett’s chest. 

“I havent cummed yet.” The growl that comes out of the Sett’s mouth has Aphelios gulping, realization hitting him all at once. Within a second, Sett has a hand around Aphelios’ cock, and he starts pumping.

“Sett, wait— _ah_ “ Aphelios’ back arches at the overstimulation from Sett’s hand. The hitman starts thrusting into Aphelios again, hitting his prostate over and over and Aphelios can only sit there and writhe like a helpless animal. His dick twitches from his previous orgasm, and the pain mixed with pleasure has him moaning out at a frequency he never thought he could reach. Sett stops for a quick moment, concerned that he’s gone too far, but when Aphelios reaches back to grab his wrists, the hitman continues without hesitation, a growl building deep within his chest. Aphelios feels so small in his lap, and Sett let’s it consume him as he cums, a mix of growls and moans escaping his lips. Sett lets his forehead rest against Aphelios’ shoulder as he continues to cum inside him, keeping up his thrusts, and it sends the Lunari over the edge as well. 

Aphelios screams out a cry as he cums the second time, thick spurts of white tainting his chest and bed sheets. Sett wraps his arms around the smaller male’s waist, pressing them together until Aphelios' back is flush against his chest, no space left between them. The dancer arches from the sudden shift in position, and now he’s hyper aware of how Sett’s cock feels inside of him. Aphelios’ hands grab at tanned thighs, his head plunged back to rest on Sett’s shoulder as he continues to ride out the wave of pleasure coursing through him. 

After a couple moments of catching his breath, Aphelios tilts his head towards Sett’s neck, hair thrown back and his forehead on full display.

He whimpers out. “F-fuck... _fuck_.” Aphelios is still shaking, so Sett continues to hold him until he’s calmed down. He slowly pulls himself out of Aphelios, and watches as the dancer shivers at the loss. Aphelios simply falls back down in bed, his hair a wild mess of black, his eyes still teary and cheeks still hot.

Worry drips out of Sett’s voice as he leans over Aphelios, a hand coming up to cradle his face. “Was I.. too forceful?”

“No.. fuck.. that was amazing.” A grin is on Aphelios’ lips as he says this, and it’s got warmth spreading through Sett’s heart.

Sett notices the cum across Aphelios’ chest. “Lemme clean you up.” He murmurs, and the dancer just points towards the door that Sett assumed was the bathroom earlier. Aphelios watches as Sett walks away, a man so big yet so gentle.

He smiles.

Sett comes back minutes later with a hot towel in his hands, and he wastes no time rubbing the tear stains off of the dancers cheeks, before cleaning up his chest and ass as well. He feels sleep creeping up at the corners of his eyes, and he slides on his boxers before climbing back into bed with Aphelios.

The last thing Sett remembers smelling before falling asleep is intoxicating moondust.
    
    
      
    
    * * *
    
     

Hours later, when the moon and stars start to skitter away and the sky becomes a muted baby blue, Sett finds himself enveloped in warm bed sheets. He smells moondust and a hint of vanilla from Aphelios’ hair, the dancer snuggled up right by his side. They had awoken hours earlier, both of them finding warmth within each other and just basking in the moment. Aphelios has his face in the crook of Sett’s neck, and Sett finds himself turning his head to kiss Aphelios on his cheek every so often.

Sett never does this, never stays the night when it comes to one night stands. But something about Aphelios is different, he’s drawn to this man—this Lunari—so beautiful and smooth and he wants him all to himself.

“Hey,” Sett whispers out, turning over to look at Aphelios. The Lunari lifts his head up with a curious look on his face.

“Let me take you out to dinner. Get to know you.” Sett’s hesitant as he says this, but when he sees the muscles on Aphelios’ face relax, his confidence grows.

The dancer gazes at him, his face almost as soft as his voice. “I would like that.”

“Yeah?” Sett rubs his hand up Aphelios’ arm before reaching his shoulder, Aphelios shivers under his touch. The sun filters through the cracks in the ceiling, its rays landing on Sett’s face and warming up his cheek.

His heart skips a beat as he watches Aphelios climb out of bed, disappearing into the bathroom before returning with a black robe. He throws it over his small frame, too lazy to wrap it around himself and close it completely.

Sett is astounded by how absolutely beautiful Aphelios looks.

“I’ll just let them know at work that I’ll be taking some days off.” Sett finds himself saying the words before he can filter them.

Aphelios stares, cheeks warm as he crawls his way back into bed. “You’d do that for me?” He snuggles against Sett’s side, face in the crook of his neck.

“I know what I want.” Sett purrs, and it’s so loud and _Vastayan_ that Aphelios shivers from it. In a quick motion he sits up and throws his leg over Sett’s waist, carefully straddling him.

“Well, _lucky me_.” Aphelios declares, his hands finding their way to Sett’s abs as he leans up against him. There’s something about him, the slick smile on his face, the glint in his dark black eyes, that makes Sett want him even more. His raven hair is curled around his face, the longer bits covering one of his eyes and landing around his chin. Sett just stares at him, soft hazel eyes melting against the paleness of Aphelios’ open chest. 

Aphelios squirms a bit under the deep stare and starts to trace a finger around one of Sett’s abs, skin soft and supple.

Aphelios bites his lip before speaking. “If you’re serious about this, there is one thing you need to know.”

“Hm?” Concern flashes across Sett’s face.

“There’s this poison I take—noctum—to uh, talk to my sister.” Sett nods as Aphelios explains, trying his best to follow along. He has no idea what noctum is, or why Aphelios has to take it to talk to his sister, but he keeps quiet and lets Aphelios continue.

“It hurts like hell, and I can’t really talk when I take it… uh..” Aphelios stumbles his words, eyes glancing at everything but Sett’s face. The hitman notices this and brings his hand up to Aphelios’ cheek. 

“Hey-” The touch causes Aphelios to finally look at him, “I don’t need words to feel those lips.”

Aphelios’ eyes go wide and his cheeks fill up with air before he busts out laughing, a genuine, full-body laugh that has his chest jerking and tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Sett just stares, smitten, by how enthralling Aphelios looks on top of him. 

“That was too corny.” Aphelios laughs, still trying to catch his breath between his words. This causes Sett to chuckle as well, knowing damn well that it _was_ pretty corny.

The look on Aphelios’ face... Sett wants to be the one to keep it that way.

Sett hums, rubbing his hand up and down Aphelios’ arm. “It doesn’t bother me, if that's what you were concerned about.” 

The gentleness in Aphelios’ smile shows his appreciation, and the birds outside seem to sing in agreement.

“So,” Aphelios starts, “where are you thinking of taking me, fancy Ionian hitman?” 

Sett hums before grabbing at Aphelios’ hips, his hands cupping around his ass. “Anywhere you want.”

Aphelios leans down, forehead resting against Sett’s. Sett can feel the dancer’s breath against his lips and he purrs. “There’s a restaurant here, called the Honey-Bee diner. The owner makes amazing _spaghetti sandwiches_.”

Sett quirks a brow, a smile settling on his face. “Spaghetti sandwiches huh?” He watches as Aphelios’ cheeks flush at the question, and the dancer bites his lip before brushing his nose up against Sett’s. 

Aphelios’ voice is soft as he speaks across Sett’s lips. “You said _anywhere_ I want.”

Sett closes in for the kiss, soft lips and light touches that leave him breathless. When Aphelios breaks apart for air, Sett brings his hand up to curl it through Aphelios’ midnight locks.

“Spaghetti sandwiches it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh, I got turned on by my own sex scene so that's how I KNOW it's good. I have so many other au's I'm thinking about for this ship... an actual modern hitman one, a butler one where Aphelios is the heir to his families legacy, and his sister is mysteriously murdered so he hires Sett to be his butler/bodyguard and help him solve the murder, his only ally. HOLY... everything works so well with these two? I honestly love it. The size difference, the polarity, everything is just so _mmm_. I feel like Sett turns into the biggest baby when it comes to Aphelios, BUT ONLY for Aphelios. 
> 
> Thank you guys for reading. I enjoy making friends so please talk to me I'm lonely, we can play league together uwu. If there's any typos please let me know! Comments and kudos are much appreciated but not required. Thank you again 💕!

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to break this up into two parts because it just felt right. If anyone wants to know, the song I imagine Aphelios dancing to is called Not Another Love Song by Teflon Saga. Comments and Kudos are much appreciated, but not required❤️️.
> 
> ALSO PLEASE if there’s any artists out there who would like to draw Aphelios in his stripper outfit…… pls……………… I'm begging……… I’ll pay you…… LMAO I'm down bad.


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